Cloak and Dagger
by Vicus Gradior
Summary: This story follows Rihar Vaitor, the only human in Lorywn, as he learns the art of magic and in doing so, begins to discover the truth of his origins.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

The cloaked figure stood alone on the forest track, surrounded by the bodies of his fallen friends, as the trees remained motionless around him. His leather armour was slick with blood, and an arrow protruded from his limp left arm. The six bandits who has ambushed his caravan stood in a loose circle around the wreckage of what has been his home and family for the past three years. Their swords were held loosely in their hands, and they were visibly pleased with the nights loot, and felt confident in their victory. As he stared at the men, with their filthy, tattered clothes and rusty blades, he felt his anger rising. How dare these pathetic men take from him the only people with who he felt happy? The only place he had felt safe? They had taken all that mattered to him, and now the bastards would pay.

As he rose slowly to his feet, his wounded arm dragging him down, the bandits pointed and jeered. Did this half-dead idiot really think he could do anything against them? They closed in for the kill, like a pack of wolves contemplating the last straggler from a herd of dear, and as they did they saw the glimmer in his eye, of hatred, rage and vengeance. Suddenly he rose to his full height and drew his sword from its scabbard. As one the bandits rushed forward, only to discover their quarry had moved; now he stood behind them. He stabbed one of the bandits through the back of the throat in one swift movement, and then twitched his weapon to block an attack from the first of the others to react. The cloaked warrior dodged the next blow and skewered another of the wretches, and used the limp corpse to absorb a third swing.

The remaining four bandits were wary now; evidently this last one wouldn't be as easy to kill as the others. Two of them charged at once, only for the lone survivor to sidestep them both and bring the flat of his sword down against one of their heads. He used the momentum built up from turning to keep the swing going straight into the other opponents side. The last two bandits took this opportunity to attempt a final blow, but their target ducked under the blows, and brought his palm up against the left-hand bandit's wrist. Quickly he moved his hand to catch the falling sword and kicked the man away. The blade was rusted and chipped, but it would serve his purposes. He blocked another swing from the only one of the scum still holding a weapon, sweeping it out of the way and slicing through its owner. As the last of the original raiders lay on the ground, the cloaked figure walked slowly towards him, raising the sword above his head, the lowly rogue on the floor begged for mercy, but his cries fell on deaf ears, as the blade came down and pierced his heart.

With all of his rage and hate expended, the lone survivor fell against a nearby Oak, and wept. He wept from the pain; the pain of his wounds, the pain of his loss, and the pain of what he had just done. And as he wept rain began to fall, as though the world wept with him. Slowly at first, but quickly increasing in speed until all that could be heard was the sound of it drumming on the ground, the rain washed away the blood and gore of the night, whilst the cloaked man slowly stood, and began his long trek to the nearest village, alone yet again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter I

As he stumbled down the rocky mountain pass towards the rising tower of smoke the cloaked wanderer finally felt some sense of hope. The smoke had been visible for hours, but the forest had seemed endless, the stark crags had been a welcome change of scenery. As the wanderer descended the rough track, a noise came from behind him. He turned to see someone detach themselves from the rock face and take a step toward him. From the black, stone-like body wreathed in flames it was obvious that the figure was a flamekin, one of an honourable and spiritual race.  
"Who goes there?" The flamekin called.  
"My name is Rihar Vaitor; I was travelling with a group of kithkin until... until last night..." replied the cloaked wanderer.  
"What do you mean 'until last night'? What happened to them?"  
"We were ambushed, by a group of eye-blight elves..."  
"And what exactly happened to the elves?"  
"I killed them" muttered Rihar, and as he did the flamekin saw his eyes flicker red, just for a moment, then they returned to a pale brown.  
"I see... in that case I will escort you down to our village, where you will speak to our elder, and she will decide what is to be done with you"  
"I thank you for your generosity" Rihar said, bowing to the flamekin. The burning figure led the way down the steep path, which descended towards the now visible cluster of houses below. As they passed through the village Rihar saw the flamekin going about their daily lives, seemingly oblivious to his presence. What he did not notice however, was that after he had passed they all turned and watched his progress through their home.

Eventually Rihar and his guide came to a large open building, made of a sand-coloured stone; it stood around 15 feet high, with an open wooden door, and simple wooden windows. The flamekin led the way inside, through a small entrance hall into a larger room. A plain stone table sat in the centre of the room, and behind it sat another flamekin, she looked slightly older then the guide, but guessing age is far more difficult with flamekin then kithkin. The flamekin who had met Rihar at the edge of the town stepped forward and bent to whisper something to the seated flamekin, who was presumably the elder he had mentioned earlier.  
"Good day traveller, I am Ashling, elder of this village" said the flamekin calmly, "my son tells me you were ambushed by a group of elves, and you have lost your family..."  
"Yes, that is correct elder, they were all slain..." replied Rihar, hardly betraying the sharp pain he felt in his heart.  
"You have my condolences, and I promise you, our village will do whatever we can to help, but first I must ask one thing of you, lay your hands upon mine"  
Rihar looked up, surprised, what kind of request was that, was it some kind of test?  
"Do not worry, I will not burn you" Ashling said in the same calm voice.  
Deciding it was best not to argue with a being made of flames Rihar stepped forward and laid his hands upon the flamekin's. As soon as he made contact he felt a warmth flow through his body, and with it a sense of... something... within him stirring. What felt like both an eternity and mere moments later Ashling pulled her hands from beneath his and looked at him with the same level gaze.  
"It is as I suspected, your soul burns like that of a flamekin, yet I sense something else, a different kind of warmth, which reminds me more of the kithkin then my kind. Tell me Rihar, what exactly _are_ you?" she asked.  
"Elder, I am afraid I cannot answer your question, not because of any oath, or because of any ill-meaning, but simply because I do not know. Among the kithkin I was simply called a lonekin, as I am the only one of my kind any of them had ever seen or even heard of. That is a question I would dearly love to answer, and it is one of the reason's I left the village with my family to travel Lorwyn." Rihar replied.  
"In that case Rihar Vaitor the lonekin, I offer you a place in our village for as long as you need it" Ashling said, smiling. Rihar took a step back out of surprise.  
"That is indeed a generous offer Elder, we have only just met, but I must decline. I could not intrude on a family whom I've never met, nor could I take food and drink from your village."  
"Do not worry, one of our residents recently left on her spirit journey, and we do not expect a warrior such as yourself to take for nothing, you will go out with our hunters to collect food, and as such earn yourself a place here. You do not realise it, but whilst you may not look like us, inside you are almost the same; so we will care for you as our own, until you too must leave on your spirit journey." Ashling explained.  
"In that case I would foolhardy and rude to turn down such a kind offer, I thank you for this gift Ashling" Rihar said, bowing. His guide, Ashling's son, led him out of the hall and though the village to what was to be his new home.

* * *

I've got a vague idea where to head with this, hopefully I'll actually write the next chapter fairly quickly, instead of taking 2 months like this one . any suggestions are welcome and appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

It had been many months since Rihar had arrived in the village of Aelwyd. The flamekin had been welcoming, accepting him as one of their own almost immediately; they had given him a knife and bow, and had traded with some kithkin for materials so he could make himself a new set of clothes and armour. Once his wounded left arm had recovered Rihar had been allowed out to hunt with the others to earn his keep. He had learnt much from watching them, as beings of fire they had to still not only their breathing but their whole body whilst tracking, and they could move silently through the forest in a way completely new to Rihar.

Most days followed the same pattern: wake up, bathe in the river that ran behind the house, get dressed, check that his knife is sheathed and nothing obstructs the ability to draw it, check that his bow is newly strung and oiled then head to the communal hall for the morning meal. After eating there was a brief respite, then Rihar and the other hunters would head to the training ground in the west of the village for practice. Normally Rihar only sparred for half the time of the others, as he seemed to have an almost instinctual grasp of combat. Once training was over the hunters were allowed a couple hours to rest and relax, Rihar almost always took this time to wander the trails around the village, learning all the hidden paths and potential spots for traps. Most of the remainder of the day was spent hunting springjack and the occasional cervin when they could be found. It was rare the hunt went badly, and the hunters always returned with food for the evening meal, some of which would be set aside for the next morning's broth, some for the stockpile and some would be given as an offer to the greater elementals. But today was going to be different…

Rihar and the other hunters crept silently towards the herd of cervin, staying downwind so their scent would go unnoticed. Darting from tree to tree Rihar pulled ahead of the other three, he reached a spot with a clear sight-line to the beasts and pulled out his bow. He notched an arrow and drew back the string, steadied his breathing and made ready to fire. Suddenly there was a whistling noise and the bow snapped in half, followed by a dull thump. Rihar turned sharply to his right to see a curved, almost leaf-shaped, blade stuck in the tree to his right, dripping with an oily black liquid that seemed to burn the bark of the tree as it ran down. Spinning to his left Rihar barely managed to dodge away from the slash of his assailant, rolling backwards to avoid a second attack. The swordsman rose up, and finally he was cast into light. A tall elf clad in a black cloak and with a face painted in the dark green hues of the lowest leaves stood before him, with a long barbed sword held in his right hand and an arrogant smirk on his face. As he stared at the creature before him Rihar felt and old anger rising within him, this was one of the beasts that had killed his family and tried to kill him, the fact that this was obviously a high caste elf rather than an eyeblight mattered naught, it was going to die for attacking him.

"Who are you?" He called to the elf. "I am Shaddix, a Winnower of the Mornsong" replied the elf. "What does a Winnower want with me, I thought you were tasked with hunting eyeblights and deserters?""You have been declared an enemy of the elves, and as such we are tasked with eliminating you on sight" explained Saddix."What is this about, the only elves I've ever met were eyeblight bandits who attacked my caravan""That is only one of the charges against you, for one those eyeblights were being hunted by a Winnower, which is how we came to know of your existence, and as such were not yours to kill. The second charge is that whilst they were eyeblights, they were still elves, and no other being should dare even draw a blade against an elf. Finally, you have been declared an insult to our race, you look almost the same as one of us and yet you are not one of us. You are far too ugly to be classed anywhere near us, but any other being might look at you and assume you are one of us, this is unacceptable." Throughout this explanation Rihar's eyes had once more began to turn red as his anger grew."Well firstly, I'll kill whichever elves I choose, second I will draw my blade against who I choose and finally, don't you DARE compare me to one of your disgusting race!" with that Rihar drew his dagger, a simple weapon forged of steel and sprinted towards the Winnower. As he drew within range the elf's sword came down, but he sidestepped and darted past his opponents guard. His dagger sped towards the elf's left arm, but he turned and span past Rihar. The blade came round again and cut into the flesh of Rihar's left arm. Ignoring the pain he used the opportunity to stab deep into the Winnower's stomach. The elf let out a cry and leapt backward, pulling his sword back to guard against a further attack. Rihar felt a strange sensation within himself, and flashes of images, of mountains and canyons, flickered before his eyes. They weren't the crags around the village; they seemed unlike anything in Lorwyn. His hands began to grow warm, when suddenly realisation hit him, where were the other hunters? He began to look round, hoping to catch a flash of fire from amongst the trees."Oh, you've noticed?" called Shaddix, "Don't expect a rescue, your fellow hunters are dead, at least they burnt all the moonglove poison off my sword, or you'd be dead already."With that Rihar felt the fury rise within, and this time he didn't try to hold it down, he let it consume him, filling him with a sense of power. He brought a hand up and pointed it towards the elf, and somehow he spoke words he'd never heard in his life, in some strange language. The elf's face to turned to dread, what was this sickening creature doing? Before he could react an arc of flame flew from Rihar's hand and struck the elf, lighting his armour on fire. The blaze continued to stream out, incinerating the elf completely as well as the trees behind him. Somehow nothing else was set alight, but none of that mattered to Rihar. His eyes returning to normal he dropped to his knees, exhausted. What in the name of the greater elementals had just happened? Some flamekin were able to control their bodies to project fire, but nothing like what he'd just done. Slowly he dragged himself up to his feet using the nearest tree and walked over to the combusted remains of the elf. The Winnower's sword still lay beside him where he'd dropped it in shock and Rihar picked it up and thrust it through his belt. Without warning an agonising burning began to pierce his left arm. In all the confusion his brain hadn't had time to register the damage that had been inflicted on him in the fight. Clenching his teeth Rihar began the long trek back to Aelwyd where he intended to go straight to Ashling, something told him she would know what had happened, and he needed answers.

Sorry this was so late up, I thought I uploaded it ages ago, evidently not. I'm about to start the next chapter and as always any comments are appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Rihar staggered back into the village, the bleeding in his arm slowed by the makeshift bandage of his cloak. As soon as he came within view the flamekin on sentry duty rushed to his side, "What happened to you? Where are the others?""Ta…take me to Ashling….", Rihar guard, a fellow hunter, took Rihar's weight as they slowly made their way to the village hall. The frightened expectations on the faces of the flamekin barely registered, the shock at what had happened was still dulling Rihar's reactions. Once at the same stone building where he had first met Ashling Rihar stood straight, wincing in pain, and sent the sentry back to his post. He walked inside, through the same halls, to Ashling's meeting chamber. The surprise and concern on Ashling's face finally made Rihar realise how he must look, and he gestured at her not to get up,"I'm not badly injured, well, nothing life threatening and what I need to talk to you about is far more important.""Rihar, what happened on the hunt? Where are the others? Where did you get that wound?", Ashling stammered."An ambush, by a winnower. He must have caught sight of me while passing through, how I have no idea, but he told me that apparently I have been declared an enemy of the elves. He then killed the others hunter", at this point Rihar flinched as though struck as it occurred to him he hadn't even looked for their remains, "Then he came for me…""But what happened to him? How in Lorwyn did you escape from a winnower?""I killed him", replied Rihar simply."But, _how_? Winnowers are trained assassins!""That's what I want to talk to you about. When I fought him I felt something inside of myself, rising with my anger, and when he told me of the fate of the other hunters it came to the surface.""What do you mean! What came to the surface?" Ashling asked, her expression growing ever more worried."The anger, the fire. Flames erupted from my hands and obliterated the elf, see, I have his sword here", with this he drew the sword from his belt and laid the disgusting weapon on the stone between them. "I want you to tell me how, you said when we met you sensed something in me, something like a flamekin. I want an answer, now.""Rihar, I understand you're angry, and upset, but I need you to understand, I never kept anything from you. However I have an idea of what happened, it seems you possess a gift. One which most beings in Lorwyn posses, that of magic. The difference is that for most of us, flamekin, kithkin, merrow and the fae it is a natural ability, but it seems your abilities are different, that they require a trigger, or even conscious thought, perhaps like the shamans of the boggarts or treefolk.""What should I do? This 'gift' scares me, what if I call it forth accidentally and damages the village, or the forest? I think the decision is clear, I must leave Aelwyd. This power is dangerous, as is my presence here if the elves are after me""In that case, you should visit with the treefolk. Obviously they won't be able to help you but they may know of someone who can, I can give you the directions to the grove where many of the elders rest." With that she took a map from behind the table and showed Rihar a route that would take him first through the mountains, then across the plains to a kithkin village, then on from there to the forests where the treefolk made their home."Once more Ashling, I am indebted to you, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the generosity of you and the others for these last few months."With that Rihar bowed and left the hall, knowing he would likely never see the building again. He slowly walked to his home to rest and collect his few belongings, but as he arrived he realised it was pointless, he'd had his bow and knife with him, one of which was destroyed and the other of which had been left at the scene of the fight. Lying down to rest exhaustion overwhelmed him and he fell into a deep sleep. The next morning Rihar awoke early, just as dawn was breaking. He headed to the stockpile he filled his pack with supplies, enough food to last him to the nearest village, some twine for traps and some spare cloth to use as a bandage. As he turned to leave he saw Ashling's son stood by the door. "My mother told me about what happened, and how you avenged the other hunters, and how you're leaving on a spirit journey" Rihar was about to interrupt and explain that this was different to a flamekin's spiritual pilgrimage when the warrior held up a bundle. "Here, this is something me and the other hunters had been preparing for you, we planned to give it to you on the year anniversary of when you arrived here, but you may as well take it now"Rihar unwrapped the bundle to discover a fine set of armour. "The material is cervin-hide, tanned and reinforced with fibres from the trees around the village. The black outer layer is made from the same stone as these building, but superheated and made into thin layers that can bend so as not to restrict your movement, whilst still offering protection against most blades."With tears in his eyes Rihar stood straight and embraced the burning figure before him. "Thank you, I will treasure it always, and never allow it to fall into disrepair" said Rihar, smiling."All we ask is you wear it proudly, and think of us when you emerge victorious from any fight." replied his fellow hunter, smiling back. In better spirits Rihar began to walk through the village to the mountain path Ashling had shown him the day before. As he stepped onto the rocky trail he heard steps behind him, turning he saw Ashling at the edge of the village. She slowly made her way towards him, then stopped and held out a knife. Rihar moved closer to Ashling and gazed at the weapon. "I know my son gave you knew armour, and I feel it only right I give you a new weapon""But… what is this?" The dagger, with a blade as long as Rihar's arm and a hilt as long as the span of his hand, was made with stunning craftsmanship. The hilt looked stone, but was carved with a simple spiral design, the crossguard was also stone with a similar design. It was the blade that caught Rihar's eye, it was white, with red veins running through it."The hilt and crossguard are carved from a single rock, it was given to me by someone a very long time ago, a good friend… the blade is made a crystal found in small amounts in the high mountains and the veins are of this" At this point she turned, revealing what looked like a small gap in part of her arm. "Wait, the red is part of your very body!""Indeed it is, don't worry, it doesn't hurt, and when you master your powers it will allow you to channel them through the blade.""Ashling…I…I cannot express my gratitude. I swear on the my honour as whatever race I am that I will master my powers, and find out where I came from, and then I will return and find a way to replay all the kindness you have shown me."With these words Rihar bowed once more to the elder and turned and walked away from another home, alone once more.

Turns out when I'm in the right mood I can write loads :PHope you enjoy it, I'm not sure where I'm going next but I have a vague idea, any characters you want me to include sometime feel free to say.


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